


Tough As Nails

by Lostinfantasies38



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alienages (Dragon Age), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Fluff, Explicit Language, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping, Mental Anguish, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Poverty, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 07:11:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21267101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lostinfantasies38/pseuds/Lostinfantasies38
Summary: Tabris struggles with ingrained defense mechanisms from growing up in Denerim's alienage.  She takes out her aggression mostly on her Warden comrade - for reasons that are hidden even from her.Rewritten 4/18/2020





	Tough As Nails

Kya Tabris was exactly the type of city elf from the alienage slums that humans avoided. A chip on her shoulder the size of her hometown, she was feisty and fierce, with a protective streak a mile wide for the disenfranchised. The dual wield training she received from her mother as a girl served her well, frequently, when dealing with lecherous humans. They never expected a knife-ear to fight back - which was always their last mistake.

While Kya might not have initially been keen on an arranged marriage, she understood the need. It was a way to _ settle _her. She had a well-earned reputation for being difficult and stirring up trouble with her cousins, Shianni and Soris. None of the elves in Denerim were clamoring for her hand and it was past time for her to marry. Kya was already nineteen and most of the elven girls were married by eighteen, at the latest.

So, her father chose someone outside of their alienage, securing a match from a family in Highever. She’d such hopes for Nelaros, too, after their first meeting. He was handsome and kind, shy and gentle - the complete opposite of her. His tenderness was endearing and warmed the hollow places carved in her soul.

Kya wondered as they stood side by side on the platform what it would be like to come home to a husband who would hug her, maybe run his hands through her dark hair and murmur that she mattered to him. That she wasn’t complete trash, like the shems said. Like her fellow elves said. Someone who would see her, who she could learn to be vulnerable with. She wanted to be gentler, _ softer_, but she couldn’t do it alone.

And then it had all gone to shit. 

Vaughn and his cronies sauntered in like they owned the damned place – well, _ fuck_, he kind of did. The priest interceded, but none of the elves said a word. Kya understood why they didn’t, conditioned to this behavior by humans their whole life. But _ shit_, just once it would have been nice to see someone besides Shianni and herself take a stand. Surely, they weren’t the only two elves in the entire city with backbone, right? 

It turned out they weren’t. 

Soris and Nelaros snuck into the castle to rescue the kidnapped women. But it was all in vain. Kya watched as her betrothed was cut down before her eyes.

In that moment, as his life blood sprayed the wall behind him, pooling in his golden hair, her vision turned the same crimson that decorated the stone. In a frenzied rage, she flew at the guards who robbed her of her one chance at happiness, at _ hope_, a _ future_. 

Her vision cleared when the final guard’s head spun across the room and she yanked the sword skewered through his gut with a snarl. Falling to her knees next to her almost-husband’s body, she closed his eyelids, covering the bright blue eyes that only hours ago sparkled in excitement when they met. 

_ I thought I’d stay calm, but seeing you has made me... Well, let’s just say I’m not calm. _

Clenched in his left hand was a delicate gold band. Her wedding ring. Didn’t Shianni tell her Nelaros was a blacksmith? Andraste’s flaming pyre! He’d probably made it himself; an act of devotion for his bride-to-be, a piece of himself forged with an inherent promise to care for her. To go through life with her. To, hopefully, _ love _ her. 

Now, he was dead, and it was all her fault.

Kya hadn’t even realized she was crying until Soris gently patted her shoulder. Carefully taking the band, she slid it onto her hand. In remembrance of Nelaros and his selflessness. A reminder of what they could have had if only she had been different – less angry, less violent, less mouthy. Steeling herself, she folded his hands across his chest, rising in her blood-stained wedding dress to continue the search for Shianni and the others.

Vaughn tried to cut a deal when they reached his private rooms, but Kya took one look at her cousin cowering in the corner, her thumb angrily rubbing along the band on her hand and ran the Arl’s son through. 

They never expected a knife-ear to fight back - and it would be his last mistake, too.

His eyes bulged in shock, clammy noble hands that had never seen a day’s work in their life frantically raking along the blade. Laughing heartlessly, she twisted the sword in his gut, enjoying the strangled gasp tumbling past haughty lips. As the life seeped from his eyes, Kya leaned over him and spat. 

“Fucking shem. Go to hell and tell everyone an elf bitch sent you.”

Soris scrambled to the back room to see who else was still alive, too stunned by her actions to speak. Kya ran over to Shianni, checking her for external injuries, aware the damage done to her cousin would not be visible and might never heal. The redheaded elf sobbed into her gory wedding gown, gasping, choking, eyes frantically darting around the chamber for more abusers. Kya earnestly wished she could kill Vaughn all over again – slower this time. 

Soris returned with his intended, Valora, who informed them that all the other girls were dead. “They fought back,” the mousy woman whined pitifully. 

Kya cursed herself - the one time the elves took a page from her book, it cost them their lives. 

Pulling Shianni to her feet, she supported the battered woman through the servants' entrance out of the palace and through the sewer system that deposited the group into the alienage. 

The city guard was hot on their heels, but they managed to hide away the women by the time the Captain arrived, demanding the names of those who took part in the massacre of the Arl’s castle. Staring defiantly at the guard, Kya took sole responsibility. The Captain scoffed until he actually looked at her wild gaze, daring him to challenge her in her once white dress, now scarlet and dotted with bits of flesh and Maker-only-knew what. She imagined her face and hair were no better. 

When Duncan offered to conscript her to keep her out of prison, Kya couldn’t turn down an opportunity to start over, and the city guard couldn’t argue. 

Now, Duncan was dead - fucking Ostagar. She still couldn’t deal with that fucking mess. Now she and the weird shem, Alistair, were the only Wardens left. She’d come to know Alistair better in the weeks following the battle, and it irritated her to discover she felt guilty for her initial treatment of him. 

Upon first meeting him, he’d been goading a mage, which admittedly had her snorting in amusement off to the side. However, when he turned to her with his disarming smile and kind eyes… Kya couldn’t explain it. In that moment, she deliberately, _ consciously_, chose to hate him. 

To say her acidic tongue lashings surprised Alistair would be an understatement. Kya knew good and well she had deeply wounded the poor man. He couldn’t be much older than her, and he’d been nothing but kind. Like Duncan, he didn’t discriminate based on race - he judged people on their merits. 

Maker’s fucking breath! What was her damned problem? Why was it so hard for her to be nice to people? She could be nice to her dog and orphaned children, but it seemed impossible she could extend the same courtesy to her fellow Grey Warden.

Kya recalled the Chantry board mission to locate a missing caravan. When they discovered the clearing where the caravan had been waylaid, all that remained were bodies and destroyed wagons. There was one wagon, mostly intact, except for the damaged wheel, guaranteeing the cart would stay where it was for the time being. The oxen had also been slaughtered and left for the wild animals. Decided to check the interior for loot, hoping for food supplies or weapons, they found something altogether different – an entire wagon of orphans bound for Denerim.

Spinning to Alistair and Zevran, Kya demanded they hide the bodies from the little ones as she clambered inside the wagon, sharing her food rations and telling funny stories to keep them distracted until the coast was clear. A few hours later, Alistair peeked nervously through the canvas flaps to find Kya rocking a young girl around three to sleep, humming a lullaby in her strawberry hair. Some of the older children were still awake, crowding close to the softly smiling elven woman for comfort.

Her green eyes met his warm hazel and something shifted in Kya towards her companion as he reveled in the tender moment. Alistair smiled sheepishly at being caught, tossing her a thumbs up to indicate the meadow was clear before disappearing. Leliana’s head replaced his and her fellow rogue cataloged the scene before joining the Warden in the wagon, softly crooning the lyrics to the lullaby Kya was humming. 

They stayed like that all night with the men keeping guard outside, while the women watched over the children. The next day Alistair and Leliana traveled to the village up the road to inform the local Chantry sisters of the orphans' plight. The priests brought a new wagon with fresh oxen to collect the children and take them to the village. They promised the Wardens they would care for them until they could arrange safe and secure passage for them to the city. 

Kya slipped a hefty coin purse to a priest. “Make sure this is used solely for their care, so no one can claim that they are a burden. If they are run out of town, Sister, they will be lost to the darkspawn.” 

The Sister blessed her with a smile as she pocketed the pouch and carted the children to safety. Kya was sure no one noticed the exchange, but when she turned around her eyes landed on Alistair leaning against a tree, a slight smile tugging his full lips, staring at her as though he was trying to figure out a particularly hard puzzle.

That was the start of her guilt for her abominable treatment of him. 

Yes, Alistair was a human. He was equally infuriating and hilarious, usually unintentionally so, which made it even better, and… kind.

Even though she had treated him like scum to be scraped off her boots, brushing off his attempts to be friendly, he remained nice to her and never once berated her, though he’d cause plenty of times. 

Kya could honestly say that for the first time she could look at a human and not see a _ shem_.

Alistair was… Alistair. Her fellow Warden. Her comrade-in-arms. She could count on him to have her back in every fight and when making the tough calls required to get the job done. He trusted her – _ an elf_. A dirty knife-ear. He chose to put his life in her hands every day, and how had she repaid him? 

“You are such a bitch,” Kya scolded herself. Zevran snorted beside her and she blushed, unaware she’d spoken the words aloud.

“Was that directed at me, dear Warden? Or have you taken to talking to yourself?” 

Zevran cocked an eyebrow, and she punched him in the arm. The Crow laughed, unperturbed by her lack of social graces, and Kya picked up her pace so she could get away from the nosy elf.

Of course, that brought her right to the front of the marching line where Alistair was scanning the terrain for trouble. Sighing heavily, she forced herself to keep on course; turning tail and running at this point would be obvious cowardice.

The very idea galled her.

“Alistair.” 

The man flinched at the sound of her voice. Kya scolded herself for giving him cause to fear her and the acerbic words that might spew from her mouth. If anything, she should fear him. She was half his size, for Andraste’s sake! He was the size of a tree and could break her with his thumbs; she was pretty sure, not that she planned to test this theory or anything. But no, he was a gentle giant while she was sharp and bitter.

“Fuck, I don’t know how to say this,” Kya huffed in annoyance.

Unconsciously slowing his pace so she was better able to keep up, Alistair sighed. “Say what? What did I screw up this time?” he asked, kicking a rock down the road in resignation.

Kya jerked her head to stare up at him. He hung his head, a browbeaten expression weighing down his handsome features, much like Rapier when she reprimanded him for digging up the campsite. A dagger twisted in her gut at the sight of the strong warrior so despondent... because of _her. _

Snatching his forearm, Kya forced him to make eye contact. Alistair stared at her with wide eyes, looking decidedly uncertain if she planned to eviscerate him or break his arm.

Blowing out an impatient breath, she gathered her courage; the words tumbling out of their own accord. “I don’t know how to say… I-I’m sorry.” 

The last words were whispered so quietly he almost missed them among the wind rustling the leaves along the path. Alistair narrowed his eyes and dragged her off the road, up a small hill, so they could speak without being overheard.

“Sorry for what, exactly? Sorry for joining the Wardens? Sorry for being stuck with me in Ostagar? Sorry for treating me no better than Morrigan since we met? Is that what you’re sorry for?” 

Kya grimaced with each accusation because they were all true. Maker, she wished she could deny them, but she couldn’t. Staring at the ground, she swallowed hard, struggling to express her guilt and her desire to start over. She’d treated Alistair as scornfully as shems treated her. Kya was aware how abhorrent her behavior towards him was and she feared an apology at this stage was likely too little, too late.

The grip on her arm loosened, and his voice softened. “Or are you sorry for taking care of those orphans? Giving the last of your rations to the family begging outside the city gates? What about slipping the elven woman the cinnamon bun you demanded we stop for because you said you never had the money to buy one?”

It was her turn to stare at him in surprise, noting the lopsided grin on his face and the warmth in his eyes. Kya blushed to the tips of her ears and bit her lip nervously. She had no idea he had been paying attention to her, too used to being invisible. Yet it seemed she could no longer claim to be so, as long as Alistair’s observant eyes were nearby.

The warrior chuckled to see their feisty leader rendered speechless. “You may be rough around the edges, but you’re not as tough as you like to pretend. Scary as hell? Oh, yeah. Scrappy? Check. Tough as nails? Still up for debate.”

Kya felt her defenses automatically rising to challenge him, to tell him in no uncertain terms to choke and die for presuming he knew her. But she restrained the urge, swallowing the words before they fell out of her mouth. Alistair released her, stepping back in mild astonishment at her ability to rein in her tongue. 

“Apology accepted,” he said without a trace of sarcasm, heading toward the group waiting for them on the road. Kya turned her back on her companion’s curious expressions. 

Again. He’d done it again. 

Ignoring an opportunity to deride her for her piss-poor attitude, for acting like a feral slum rat, and _ hurting _ the one person who deserved it the least. 

Instead, Alistair told her he _ saw _ her treating others with kindness and compassion, respected her for it. Not_ once _ had he come to her demanding to know why she didn’t extend him the same courtesy. 

Snapping her dirk out of her boot, she hurled into a nearby tree trunk with an angry shriek. She heard the snorts behind her at the display, but she didn't turn around. Kya wasn’t mad at anyone, except herself, and her inability to function like a normal person. 

A weight rested lightly on her shoulder, nearly sending her leaping into the canopy of trees. Rolling immediately away from danger, she popped out of her roll, swords flashing in the sunlight, lips curled in a feral snarl. 

Alistair stumbled back a couple of paces with his hands raised in surrender, wariness reflected in his gaze. Kya sighed heavily and returned her weapons to their sheathes with unsteady hands. Raising her own hands, she choked out a strangled apology.

Furrowing his brow, he whispered to prevent his voice from carrying. “What happened to you? Who mistreated you so that you respond to kindness with violence?”

Kya barked a harsh laugh and shook her head. “You wouldn’t understand. No human could ever understand the true despair of living in an alienage - at the constant mercy of humans and their cruelty.” 

Walking to the tree where her blade was buried, Kya yanked it out and inspected it briefly for damage, before tucking it back in place. 

“You once asked me if I was afraid of darkspawn and I told you no; would you like to know why?” The man nodded slowly. 

“Because I have seen the depravity that lies in men’s hearts under the guise of compassion or a sick desire to hurt someone simply because they can. Darkspawn are honest. They do not shy from their evil because it is the only way they can be. But humans have a _ choice_, Alistair, and the majority of them in my experience, have chosen to hate, slander, abuse, and degrade others for their pointy ears or their stout, stocky legs. Humans are barbarians.”

Flashing her pointy canines at him in a simpering smile, she flicked a piece of bark out from under a fingernail. “I have stories that would make your hair stand on end. Ask me how I was conscripted some time, but make sure you don’t eat beforehand. It's a gruesome tale.”

Alistair’s mouth was drawn into a severe line and she could see the wrath her words stirred inside him. She opened her mouth to prevent him from railing against her for speaking ill of his people, but he interrupted.

“No, Kya, you’re right. I can’t possibly understand. No matter how much I try, no matter how much I _ want _ to. But that does not mean that I agree with their actions. That level of disrespect and cruelty is... _ unconscionable _ to me.” Holding her agate-colored gaze, he murmured softly, “Not all humans are barbarians.”

She stared at him, struck by the dappled light wreathing his head like a halo, highlighting the auburn in his hair and enhancing the gold flecks in his eyes. 

Ducking her head in embarrassment, the words she’d been searching for earlier rolled easily off her tongue, loosened by his fervent declaration.

“No, they aren’t, Alistair,” she intoned quietly. “Granted, I still think most of them are shits and I will probably shank the next one who calls me a knife-ear.” The warrior snorted, muttering in agreement, and her lips quirked slightly. “But then I met you. You have shown me continued kindness when you didn’t have to, and you’ve never distrusted me simply because I’m an elf. I am... _ sorry _ for how I have treated you. I have been a Morrigan-esque bitch, and it was undeserving. I hope you can forgive me. I want to start over.”

Lifting her eyes to meet his again, she gave him a tremulous smile, hoping her moment of vulnerability would serve her well and not bite her in the ass.

“Of course,” Alistair blurted without hesitation, a broad grin lighting up his chiseled features. 

Kya’s street smarts warned her to be careful; this nice veneer could be a trap, but she knew Alistair was different. Training her flight or fight response to believe that, though, would be harder than telling her head, yet she was willing to try.

“Good.” Kya’s shy smile grew infinitesimally, and she tried to ignore how his did too, unveiling his dimple which released a nervous flutter in her stomach. 

Jerking her head toward their companions waiting by the road, Alistair nodded in silent agreement. They did not speak anymore during their march to the Circle tower. Reaching the Circle later that evening, Kya splurged for lodging at the inn instead of rushing across the lake to meet with the mages.

Zevran and Alistair bunked together, while Kya, Leliana, and Morrigan shared another room. Kya gave the humans the bed, setting up a pallet on the floor for herself. Leliana tried to argue, but the elf only shook her head, blushing at the fuss the redhead made over her. Within minutes of curling onto the soft pallet, Kya was asleep. She awoke in the morning feeling very refreshed and couldn’t resist a final burrow under the covers into the soft mattress.

Her eyes shot open, and she sat up with a gasp. 

Yep, she was most definitely in a bed, but it wasn’t the room she purchased. Glancing down, she noticed with relief she was still in her under tunic and cotton breeches she went to sleep in. Yet nothing explained how the bed magically appeared.

Kya padded quietly across the chamber and cracked the door. The rooms she purchased the night before were across the hallway, which meant she wasn’t in the men’s room… so a third room? But who -

“Ah, good, you’re awake.” 

Alistair’s smooth voice sounded on her right and she startled to see him climbing the last few stairs to the landing, carrying a plate. 

“I grabbed you some toast and bacon before Zevran ate it all.” He passed her the plate with a small smile, trepidation swirling in his eyes, unsure what her reaction would be.

“Thank you,” the elven woman murmured as she took the dish. 

Kya wished she could find the words to thank him for the room, as well, but she suddenly found her mouth too dry to articulate anything further. His smile widened a little and the uncertainty eased from his face. With a nod, he headed for his room and closed the door without a backwards glance. 

She stood on the landing and stared at the plate with a blush. Why - she could not say for certain, except that maybe his continued kindness shamed her. 

Slipping back into her room, she softly closed the door to eat in peace. Once she broke her fast, Kya quickly strapped on her armor piled neatly on the chair, and crossed the hall to the other women’s room to collect her pack. It was already close to ten in the morning and they still had much to do. Meeting with the rest of the companions downstairs, they chose who would cross the lake with she and Alistair.

“Right, Morrigan, you stay here. You and Templars don’t have a good history. I’ll leave Rapier with you. So, Zevran and Leliana, you’re with us.” Morrigan muttered under her breath, but shooed them all away from her and out the door.

They convinced the Templar on the dock to take them across the lake, but something about the situation made Kya’s hands twitchy. No sooner did they cross the threshold of the tower then she realized her instincts were correct. 

Knight-Commander Greagoir explained the Circle was overrun with abominations and Kya’s blood turned to ice. 

“Shit,” Alistair swore behind her and she nodded in dazed agreement.

The Wardens had already fought a few abominations on their travels and she was not looking forward to clearing out an entire tower of them, but they needed the mages. It stood to reason that not all of them were dead; some of them surely survived the assault and were using their magic to defend themselves. They would be useful allies and what’s more, they would be indebted to her. 

Greagoir grudgingly agreed to let them clear out the tower since they had not received word from Denerim on their course of action. After restocking their potion supply with the quartermaster, the four of them ventured deeper into the tower. Kya tried not to flinch as the Templars slammed the metal door shut behind them and barred it against re-entry. 

Fucking Void, she hoped she hadn’t made a huge mistake.

They made it through the first floor with relative ease and Kya felt more confident in their decision to help the Circle. Her self-assurance increased when they found Wynne protecting a handful of mages and child apprentices. Agreeing to take her with them, they continued their patrol of the tower and left Zevran to help the mages guard the little ones. 

Kya was grateful the older woman joined them since she was a healer and her spells kept them on their feet longer without sacrificing their precious potions.

The team continued their search and rescue mission of the tower, but found fewer and fewer uncorrupted mages or inhabitants not charred beyond recognition as they went. They also discovered fleshy sacs growing from the stonework and strange viscous fluids flowing along the floors. Kya gripped her sword hilts tighter and tried not to throw up as her eyes drank in the carnage.

“Maker’s breath,” Alistair muttered beside her. “It gets worse as we go higher.” 

Nodding absently, she became aware the level they were on was unnervingly quiet. The others picked up on the eerie silence as well, and they moved as stealthily as possible through the vacant hall.

A door to one of the Templar’s rooms was open and Kya peeked quickly around to look inside. She jerked her head back to her team flush against the wall to whisper. 

“Desire demon.” 

Wynne and Alistair scowled angrily and prepared themselves to fight. The four of them rushed the demon and the poor ensnared Templar. Kya tried to ignore the broken way he screamed at them to not murder his wife as they hacked the demon. 

It hit too close to home.

Images of Nelaros came unbidden. Smiling at her on the platform as hope bloomed in her chest. Blue eyes shining with excitement when they were introduced. Crimson splashing on gray stone, saturating strands of gold, darkening, tarnishing, _ ruining_.

By the time their enemies fell, Kya was a wreck. 

Dropping her swords with a clatter, she dashed out of the room to expel her breakfast, weeping brokenly. Sobbing the tears she hadn’t allowed herself to cry since her conscription. 

No one disturbed her during her moment of weakness, for which she was grateful. When the nausea passed, she slunk wordlessly into the room and retrieved her swords, wiping the gore along the Templar’s fabric talbard before continuing through the hallway to check the other room. 

They cut down the mob of possessed Templars and the blood mage controlling them without a second thought. Scurrying across the hall to continue the purge, they walked directly into an abomination. 

A mage lay crumpled on the blood-slicked floor at the creature’s feet. Rage exploded within her, but when she tried to lift her sword, Kya realized her arm was too tired to hold the weapon. In fact, she was utterly exhausted, especially after her vomiting episode. She really wanted a nap. 

Wynne pleaded with her to resist the temptation to sleep, but she didn’t want to. Andraste’s ass, she was so tired.

* * *

“Kya, dear, I’m home! Master Tilsen decided to close the smithy early today.” 

Nelaros entered the house and snagged her gently around the waist. Kya pretended to be busy at the stove, but he knew this game. Smirking slightly, he dipped his lips to her neck, kissing a line up her throat along her jaw to her mouth. Kya melted into his tender embrace, spinning around in his arms to face him, snaking her arms around his neck to hold him in place against her lips. 

They separated breathlessly and Nelaros pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead in wordless gratitude for what they shared together. He was a skilled blacksmith and while he would never make as much money as a human or a dwarf at the trade, they paid him well for an elf. It was enough to provide for both his wife and his father-in-law.

Cyrion popped around the corner. “I hope I am not interrupting,” he teased. Kya blushed a little, but shook her head at her father and Nelaros released her with a grin.

“Not at all, Father. We wouldn’t have asked you to move in with us, otherwise. Come, sit at the table. I'll wash the smell of the forge off me and join you for dinner.” He ducked into their room and Kya heard him pour water from the pitcher into the basin so he could freshen up.

Her father chuckled. “Tell me, daughter, are you happy with the match I made for you?” 

Kya blushed deeper as she ladled the stew into bowls and placed them on the table. “You know that I am, Father. Nelaros is a wonderful man, and he has always provided for us both.” 

As she moved around the table, her father gently took her hand and smiled with tears in his eyes. 

“I am glad that things have worked out for you, my child.” Cyrion tenderly patted her swollen belly. “And for this little blessing. I am happier than I could have ever dreamed.”

Nelaros reappeared and laid his hand possessively across her stomach. Kya smiled warmly, gazing into her husband’s hazel… wait, blue eyes. The sudden shift in color triggered her fight response, and she shoved her husband - _ he’s dead _ \- away from her. 

She stared at her father, noting his smile now seemed forced, plastered on like a doll’s, and his eyes turned stony in the wake of her fear.

“Kya, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Is it the baby? Do you need to lie down?”

Nelaros walked… no, _ stalked _ … towards her like prey - _ come back, my pretty _ \- reaching for her with his _ claws _… hands… and she ran around the table to get away. 

Cupping her hand protectively against her belly, Kya found only flat, toned muscle. No babe grew in her womb or ever would. The darkspawn taint had stolen that deeply buried dream from her. 

Darkspawn. Wardens. _ Alistair. _

“Where the fuck is he, you lying sack of shit?!” 

The illusion came crashing down, and she found herself in a wasteland holding her swords aloft as somewhere in the distance a demon shrieked in anger. 

“Teach you to play with my mind, you bastard!” 

The two demons who had taken her fiancé and her father’s forms, respectively, leapt from the shadows. They raked the air and hissed angrily at her for destroying their plans, but she sliced her dual blades down and through their ashy forms at an angle, disintegrating them. 

An altar appeared in the middle of the room, covered in runestones, and she reached out to touch the pedestal with a shaky hand. Kya knew her companions were trapped, too, and if their own desires were as strong as hers, they could not leave without help. She would still be trapped if the demon had not confused Alistair’s warm hazel eyes with Nelaros’s blue. As for why she was thinking of her fellow Warden’s eyes, Kya did not want to examine that right now.

“Hang on guys, I’m coming for you.” 

After fighting for what seemed like forever through the Fade, she systematically killed the demons that kept them bound to Sloth. Kya followed Niall’s advice and learned various forms to get through all the wards to free her friends.

Wynne's nightmare was depressing, but she convinced the mage to leave with her, breaking the illusion. They quickly dispatched the demons. Everything was fine until the older woman disappeared. Kya experienced a minor panic attack initially at her sudden vanishing act, yet she prayed that they would be reunited when they woke up. 

Leliana was on the next island, but nothing the elf said could sway the woman into believing they knew each other. With a heavy sigh, the situation forced her to kill the “Revered Mother” to prove to her friend it was a trap. When Leliana also disappeared, Kya swallowed her rising anxiety and rushed to the altar to unlock the final ward.

Kya walked into a scene much like hers. Her heart lurched painfully in her chest at the idea Alistair also sought acceptance and a family. She never imagined such a handsome man could be lonely. He deflected most of his pain with humor and that sudden burst of clarity made her want to fall on her sword. 

Maker, how deeply had she wounded him when she had treated him with such disdain all these months? She was literally all that he had left. The Wardens were a family of sorts, and now all of them were gone, including Duncan, who may have been a surrogate father to him. The only person he had left in all of Thedas was her. 

Closing her eyes as waves of guilt washed over her, she grit her teeth in self-loathing. It may not have been the way she’d always dreamed of someone wanting her in their life, but she would take it. She had much to make up for with Alistair, and Kya hoped he would let her make amends.

The warrior saw her heading his way and his entire face lit up. His response sent warmth radiating through her body, and she couldn’t contain the first real smile blooming across her face at his exuberance. 

“There you are! I was just thinking about you! What a coincidence.” 

A thrill of excitement coursed through Kya in reply, but she didn’t have time to dig too deeply for meaning, as he was busy introducing her to "sister." The demon masquerading as his sister eyed her warily, barely maintaining the illusion holding the man hostage.

“Alistair, I’ve been looking for you. We need to leave.”

The man frowned, shaking his head with determination. “I-I don’t think I’ll be coming. I’m sorry.”

Stepping as close as she could without craning her neck to speak to him, Kya pleaded. “I need you to come with me, Alistair. I-I need your help. I can’t do this alone. You said we could start over, remember? But how can I start over with you if you aren’t with me?”

A flash of awareness gleamed in his hazel eyes, his lips parting slightly as he held her gaze. His hand crept slowly toward her face, her name a gentle sigh when he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. 

“Well, brother, is your friend staying for dinner?” Kya jumped slightly as the demon’s syrupy voice broke the spell.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the elf implored with a whisper. “Think about how you got here, Alistair. It’s important.”

Creasing his forehead in concentration, his eyes widened as he remembered the Circle and the demon. She knew the minute he realized he’d been tricked and his fury was a sight to behold. They fought the demons together – his shield coming between her and a fatal blow, her blades protecting his exposed flank – until all the creatures were dead. 

When he winked out of existence, she stamped down the rush of panic that washed over her anew. Kya was connecting dots in her head, _ finally_, and there were so many things she wanted to say, but trapped in the Fade she feared she wouldn't have time now.

The middle rune was all that remained. It was time to deal with Sloth. 

Kya stepped into Sloth’s domain, nearly sobbing in relief when her companions followed on her heels. She strode purposefully to the demon gloating in his principality, his mocking laughter echoing around her as she approached. 

“I gave you the wrong dream the first time. Go back to your island and I’ll give you everything you want. I know what you hide from yourself, elf,” it sneered, flicking its red eyes to the one behind her.

Snatching her swords faster than the creature could blink, she snarled viciously through gritted teeth. 

“Never. You will never have either of us, but especially not HIM!” 

Kya shoved her swords through its chest with such force that they both skidded backwards a few paces. Sloth screamed in rage, yanking her blades from his body, tossing her aside like a rag doll.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Alistair yelled, charging the demon as it morphed into an ogre. Sloth shape-shifted through much of the fight, switching forms to prevent them from learning any one weakness, but through sheer determination and force of will they finally ended the bastard. 

Niall appeared and reminded Kya to take the Litany from his body when they returned to protect them from blood magic. She barely had time to thank him before the mist descended on them again.

“Ugh, I’m covered in Maker’s knows what,” Alistair groused. 

Kya rose on shaky legs, turning slowly at the dulcet sound of his voice. 

Andraste, she was a Maker-damned fool! 

There was an explanation, a reason she shut him down so hard, and kept him at arm's length. Always pushing him away, irritated by his kindness, his gentleness, his _ forgiveness. _ All this time she was afraid of getting close to someone, in case they risked their life for her. In case, they ended up dead, like Nelaros. 

But, that was what people did when they cared about you, she realized. They risked _everything_ because the alternative, being without someone you cared about, was worse. 

How many times since Ostagar had his shield protected her? How often did she parry blows meant for him? 

Months ago she stood on a platform and hoped an arranged marriage would fill the void in her heart. And it probably would have… in its way. But _ this _ was a second chance. Unlike Nelaros, whom she didn’t know, Kya knew Alistair’s heart. He was not a barbarian. He was _ not _a shem. 

Fear would no longer have a stranglehold on her. 

Kya watched him take a clean cloth from his pack and wipe his face, completely oblivious to her ogling him, as the gears in her head finally clicked into place. Running a hand over her own face and finding she had been lucky to _ not _ land in whatever was on the floor, she snagged the undertunic peeking over the top of his cuirass, yanking him down to kiss him square on the lips.

Alistair froze in shock, hazel eyes wide open in surprise, unable to even reciprocate. Kya released him just as suddenly and stepped back with a faint smile. Leliana and Wynne tried to suppress their giggles at their awkwardness. 

Alistair sputtered helplessly, struggling to find adequate words in his confusion. “Uhh... you sure you’re… _you_ and not some…”

“Demon?” Kya supplied, and Alistair nodded feebly. “Nope, it's me. I figured after a near death experience in the Fade I could tell you what an idiot I’ve been and show you how much I’m looking forward to starting over.”

The warrior ran a hand nervously through his hair, muttering, “Maker, I do not understand women. Not in the slightest… not even a little bit…” 

Leliana couldn’t contain herself any longer and burst into a fit of laughter. “Don’t worry, dear Alistair, I will explain it all to you later.”

“Wait?! You knew!” he accused, staring at the bard in affront. 

Leliana rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “The only ones who didn’t know"- she flicked her finger between them -"were you two.” 

With that embarrassing pronouncement, the redhead flounced off, intent on completing their mission with Wynne. Kya flushed slightly when his warm gaze fell on her again, but she merely tilted her head toward the door, following the other women on fleet feet.

Finally alone, Alistair smiled softly and touched his tingling lips in amazement. Remembering the rose from Lothering tucked in his pack, he decided to ask Wynne to preserve it. If things continued in this vein, he might just give it to someone. 

“I knew you weren’t a total hard ass, Kya,” Alistair chuckled as he trailed after their fearless elven leader.


End file.
